


The Door Into Winter

by tisfan



Series: Bucky Barnes Bingo [2]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Chronicles of Narnia - C. S. Lewis, Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Chronicles of Narnia Fusion, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, M/M, faun Tony Stark
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-31
Updated: 2020-02-19
Packaged: 2020-10-01 00:44:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,866
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20456288
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tisfan/pseuds/tisfan
Summary: For Bucky Barnes Bingo Square Filled: C4 - WinterBucky opens a door… and finds himself somewhere else entirely.





	1. Chapter 1

It was snowing. Tony tried to be surprised, snow, how lovely. But it really wasn’t. It wasn’t lovely, and it wasn’t a surprise. It had been snowing, as far as he knew, on and off, for the last ninety-nine years, three hundred days, and seven hours. Mostly on.

Not that Tony was anywhere close to a hundred years old, and the White Queen’s rule had been firmly in place for the entirety of his life. When people said Long Live the Queen, they apparently really meant it, because from everything that Tony had read, heard, or made up about the Queen, Lady of the Frost, the Masked Lady, long may she reign, blah blah blah, she had been in Narnia at the very dawn of time, and as they were coming up rapidly on the thousandth year of Narnia as a nation, from the time of King Stephen the Just, down to now, she was very old indeed.

She didn’t look old.

But she apparently was.

Tony was headed to market. Not because he needed anything; he had everything a faun could need for the winter, coffee and books, firewood and lamp oil. Those things, he’d heard, were getting in very short supply in some parts of the country. Trees didn’t grow because their branches were weighed down with snow. They were cut down for wood. New trees didn’t sprout because it was never spring.

Soon the lands would be barren, not worth inhabiting.

Tony knew that some of the taller dwarves, and other, more human like, had fled south, to the warmer kingdoms, hoping for food, for shelter.

No one knew if they came back.

But Tony had an errand and he had to do it. The Starks had been in the service of the Queen since, well, since before she was Queen at all, hadn’t they?

And it was his job, his responsibility, as the last of the Starks, to bring his report to the Queen. To tell her which families were muttering, and who was planning a raid, and where discord and turmoil were being sewn. 

He did his best to keep the Queen’s eye averted from the casual gossiper, or the family who was trying to raise six children and who needed those eggs. He reported on those bringing weapons. Treason. Treason would hurt more people than just the fighters. If a militia was raised against the Queen, the entire village would be nothing but stone and ice by the end of the battle. Dwarven women, faunlings, talking animals, dryads. Everyone. 

Better that one or two disgruntled weapon makers were executed. Better for everyone.

And sometimes, if the Queen required that he make new weapons, design better armor, well… if the citizens would just not rebel, everyone would live.

Tony tried to think about what he would say, and not think how disappointed King Stephen would have been.

Not that there was a King Stephen anymore. The original had died more than nine hundred years ago, and his final heir, King Stephen the ninth, had died when Tony’s father was only just barely older than a faunling.

He bought what goods there were at the market, because he had coin, and there were goods. He would leave most of them with the villagers, unmarked presents outside the door. Not that Christmas had come in decades, and not likely to come again soon. But he could do a little something. Tea for Mrs. Falcon, who was ill, and bread and honey for the Black Widow and her girls.

Tony stopped and left his messages for the Queen with her herald.

He was just headed home, when the lamp flickered at the end of the row.

The lamp hadn’t flickered in Tony’s entire life. No one knew why the lamp was there, or how it had come to mark the way into the woods, but it wasn’t lit. It was never lit.

Except now it was.

Tony took a few more steps, his goat-feet steady on the icy ground, packages clutched to his chest, scarf keeping his neck warm.

And there was--

A person!

And what a person, dark hair and broad shoulders and wearing clothes that Tony had never seen before. A very tall dwarf, perhaps, or a short giant.

That person looked up, his eyes silver-blue and his hair dusted with snow, clutching his arms around himself as if he hadn’t thought to dress for the weather, which was just silly, because it was always Winter.

“Oh, I-- hey there,” the person said.

Tony’s packages ended up on the ground, coated with snow. “Oh, goodness gracious me,” he exclaimed. “You’re a _human being_.” 

***

“Well, of course I’m a human bein’,” Bucky Barnes said, somewhat exasperated. He was cold and lost and hungry, and here was this goat-boy making ridiculous statements. “What else would I be?”

“There are lots of things that pretend to be human and aren’t,” the creature said. He had a thick scarf around his throat and his tail was tucked under the crook of his arm like an umbrella, but aside from that, he wasn’t wearing a stitch of clothing. It didn’t much matter, since his legs were covered with thick, almost wooly brown fur and his feet-- well, they weren’t feet, so much as hooves, and he had little horns curling through his hair like a ram’s.

“_What_ are you?”

“I, son of Adam, am a faun,” the -- apparently -- faun said. “Very respectable, fauns, with a lot better sense than you have, wandering around the evening without even so much as a coat.”

“Well, I didn’t expect to be here,” Bucky said. “I was playing Hide and Go Seek with some friends -- it’s Summer, I mean, on the other side of the door. In Brooklyn.”

“Summer, really?” the faun asked, marveling. “You must come and tell me about it, have some tea, a bit of lunch, won’t that be nice.”

“I don’t even know who you are,” Bucky said.

“Oh, terrible rude of me,” the faun said. “I’m Tony Stark. And you are--”

“Bucky. Bucky Barnes.”

“Well, then, Lord Barnes, from the fair land of Brooklyn, where eternal summer reigns, would you do me the honor of having tea with me?”

“It’s just Bucky,” Bucky said. “But yeah… yeah, I’d love to.”

“So, are you really a human being?” Tony asked, offering Bucky his arm. Tony was smiling up at him, eyes crinkling. 

Bucky pulled himself closer -- the faun was warm like a brick fresh from the hearth and Bucky was shivering -- and nodded. “Yeah, I mean, we’re all… I’ve never met anyone who wasn’t a human being. Before today.”

“Well, something new for both of us,” Tony said. 

He led Bucky to a small house of sorts, the door set in the side of a big tree, so big that Bucky could barely make out the top branches from the ground, although that might have been the snow, which was heavier now.

Inside the tree was a tidy little sitting room, with a bright fire going, and warm, comfortable-looking chairs and a beautiful table. Bucky found himself quite close to the fire, holding his hands up to it. 

“I’ll just get the kettle on, and bring out some snacks, shall I? You can tell me how you got here, Bucky.”

“I really don’t know,” Bucky said. “I was playing a game. My friends and I were a little into our cups, and being silly, and I found a great hiding place. But Nat was going to catch me, and I thought, great drunken thought, that I couldn’t let her find me. And then there was this-- door. Where there’d never been a door before, so I opened it, and. Well, here I am.”

“Here you are,” Tony said. He had a pot of tea steeping, and cookies, and a few sandwiches, a chunk of cheese, sliced apples. “And here you go, let me offer you food, as much as you like.”

“Thank you, that’s awfully kind of you,” Bucky said. It was the Depression, back home, and Bucky hadn’t had a decent meal in months. Sometimes bacon and beans, when there was bacon. Mostly just beans, and scratch biscuits. He’d had a bit of cake at Christmas, and the cookies that Tony was offering were delicious and spicy and crisp. The tea was rich and heavy with cream and sugar.

Bucky ate until he was full, which was a sensation he’d never quite had before. And while he ate, Tony asked endless questions. Questions about humans, and about his friends, and about Steve. Especially about Steve.

It was getting late, almost dark, and it was still snowing.

Bucky had almost fallen asleep in Tony’s comfortable chair. “Oh, hell, I need to get back, everyone’s going to be worried about me, being gone so long. They’ll think I got mugged or rolled or picked up by the police.”

Tony settled his cup into his saucer and looked at Bucky with a sorrowful expression. “I’m afraid it’s no good now,” he said.

“What? You don’t understand, my friends will think I’ve been kidnapped.”

Tony just blinked at him. He glanced at the door, which locked itself, as if by magic. “But you have been.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bucky Barnes Bingo - C1 Terrible Choices
> 
> In which Bucky is not kidnapped, and something Very Bad happens

“You can’t _kidnap _me,” Bucky exclaimed, as if that had anything to do with anything. “I didn’t do anything to you!”

Tony wasn’t really looking at him; instead he was staring up at the portrait over the fireplace. “That’s my father up there, Howard Stark. Respectable, you know. For certain definitions of respectable. The Starks have served the Queen since there was a queen; since there were Starks. And there’s a standing order, Lord Barnes. Humans are to be captured and turned over to the Queen.”

“What? Why?” Bucky demanded. “I don’t know anything about any queens, and I’m nobody’s lord. I’m just a poor guy from Brooklyn. That’s all. Now, lemme go, I don’t want to hurt you.”

“That’s good,” Tony said, “as I don’t want to be hurt.”

“Well, if you’re gonna go kidnappin’ people who ain’t done anything to you,” Bucky said, “you ought to expect to be hurt. What’ve I ever done to this Queen of yours, anyway?”

“I’m afraid it’s more that what the Queen has done to _you_,” Tony said. “She took the throne, which was never intended for her. The Queen, you know, is not human. She claims to be. She looks human enough, for those of us who don’t know. But she’s not. She’s not descended from Adam and Eve, the first humans. It’s said she’s a daughter of Lilith, Adam’s first wife. Or some say she’s really a giantess. Or perhaps she’s merely wearing a human disguise. We don’t know. But the thrones, they’re meant for _humans_. By an ancient law, even older than the Queen’s. You, being here, just being here, in Narnia, is a threat to her rule.”

“So, I’ll go,” Bucky said. “Ain’t like I-- wait, she’s an usurper, so why are you working for her? You seemed… nice.” 

It wouldn’t be the first time that Bucky had been taken in by someone _nice_.

“I don’t know,” Tony said. “It seemed best, for so long. Do the Queen’s bidding, keep people from getting hurt. It’s not like we can _fight back_. The Queen is a witch, powerful and terrible. She turns people to stone with a single flick of her wand. We tried to fight her, over the years. There’ve been rebellions and uprisings, and all that’s happened is that we have whole battlefields full of statues.”

“Doesn’t seem like a great person to be servin’,” Bucky said, cautiously. 

“No, perhaps not,” Tony said. “But it was the best way to keep everyone _safe_. Until you came. Until humans came back to Narnia.”

“I didn’t come here on purpose,” Bucky protested.

“I don’t see how that matters,” Tony said. “You’re here now. Her spells can be broken, her rule overturned. Unless I turn you over to her.”

“You really can’t do that,” Bucky said. He eyed the small room for anything that he could use as a weapon. He didn’t want to hurt Tony, he didn’t want to hurt _anyone_, but he would. If he had to.

“No, I don’t suppose I can,” Tony said. “I know I don’t want to. I thought-- well, I thought humans would be like her, so it wouldn’t matter if you ruled, or if I turned you over, it wouldn’t change anything. But you-- you’re not like that. Humans aren’t like the Queen. And maybe, maybe this was _meant_ to happen.”

Bucky relaxed, infinitesimally. “So what do we do now?”

“If we hurry, I can probably get you home before any messages reach the Queen that you’ve been here at all,” Tony said. “But we must go, now, quickly and quietly. Even some of the trees are on her side, and they talk so quickly, they might already be sending word.”

Bucky gathered up his few things, and took the coat that Tony offered him to keep warm in the snow.

They hurried out of Tony’s little house and down the path. Bucky didn’t know where he was, and he probably couldn’t have found his way back to the lamppost without a guide, so it was just as well that Tony had a change of heart.

The ground was covered with snow, in fact it had not stopped snowing since Bucky arrived and now the drifts were nearly to his knee. He would not have been able to follow his footsteps back out.

“All right, my darling,” Tony said, when they reached the lamppost. “If you go straight there, through those two big trees, do you see them? You should be able to get to the door that will take you back to Brooklyn.”

“What will happen to you, if you betray the Queen?”

“If I’m very lucky, she’ll never find out,” Tony said. “Who would believe it, humans in Narnia? Silly willow stories. I’ll be fine. Go on, you should go.”

“Will I ever see you again?” Bucky was oddly reluctant to leave, now that he was being given his opportunity.

“Someday, perhaps,” Tony said, and then he moved into Bucky’s personal space, those little cloven hooves of his stamping nervously. “Kiss me goodbye and then go.”

There was magic in that kiss, Bucky felt it. Like a spark of heat between them, a jolt of electricity, a prick of blood to seal a spell, or a drop of wax to close a letter. Tony tasted strange and wild, beautiful and feral all at the same time. He made Bucky ache for more, more kisses, more… other things.

“Goodbye,” Bucky said, and he touched Tony’s cheek.

“Goodbye, and good luck,” Tony said.

Bucky turned and ran for home, pushing great waves of snow out of his way, floundering like a fish, until he reached the trees, and there, there was the door.

He grasped the knob and looked back. He could barely see the lamppost, and the shadow beside it that must still have been Tony.

And then he was through the door, back home, and Nat was laughing.

“Found you!” she said. Like no time had passed at all. Like he hadn’t been with Tony for hours and hours.

“You should see--” Bucky started. And then stopped

There was no snow in Bucky’s hair. There was no door behind him.

There was nothing.

It was gone.

Tony was gone.

“Where’d you get the coat?” Steve was asking. He’d already been tagged out, probably. Steve was terrible at Hide and Seek even when he was sober. His arm was around Peggy’s waist, and she was laughing. “It’s beautiful.”

“You are not going to believe what just happened,” Bucky said.

***

Tony was barely even home when the wolves came for him.

He’d love to say he was shocked, but he wasn’t. He was, in fact, prepared. Brock Rumlow, the Captain of her Majesty’s secret police, at least paid him the honor of coming, personally, to arrest Tony, to clamp him in irons and drag him through the villages as a traitor.

_A traitor, _the words were whispered._ Traitor to the Queen? A Stark?_

The people came out, dwarves and satyrs, talking animals and living trees, to throw offal at him, to jeer and mock, but under their contemptuous shouts and the barrage of disgusting things that Tony was showered with, he saw concern. Curiosity. _Hope_.

How had a Stark betrayed the Queen?

And unless Tony was greatly mistaken, the snow was starting to melt. Icicles formed on the edge of roofs, growing thin and pale. A few green shoots of grass stuck out, here and there.

A thaw, perhaps. 

Before the next great snow.

Or maybe, just maybe, Spring was coming.

The first Spring in generations. Children who had never seen flowers before except in paintings, might see them bloom.

Hope.

Tony was dragged before the Queen, and he knelt. She was terrible and glorious and beautiful, and her beauty was a thing of knives and poisoned splinters. Deadly and fascinating all at once.

“You are accused of treason, Anthony Stark,” she intoned, looking at him from her icy throne. “What have you to say for yourself?”

She held her wand between two fingers, twirling it idly. 

“I say I have committed treason, your Majesty,” Tony said. “Treason to the true rules of Narnia. Treason to the people of Narnia. And for the first time in my life, I have rejected your rule and all that I have done in your name, because I have met-- an actual human.”

The word curled around the courtroom like a raven, whispered and repeated and echoed.

“Liar!” the Queen yelled. She was already on her feet, pointing her wand at him. “Even now, you can save yourself. Say that you are lying, and you will see I can be merciful.”

“I tell no lies, Whitney Frost,” Tony said. “I have met a human. The rightful king will return.”

Frost gestured at Tony. “Rip his heart out,” she said, and one of her servants, Stane, came forward. He put a hand to Tony’s chest and clutched--

Tony toppled forward, slowly, dying.

“Long live the Kin--”

Frost waved her wand and Tony barely had time to know that he was being turned to stone before everything went black


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bucky Barnes Bingo: B2 Brooklyn
> 
> The rest of the crew visits Narnia and finds more than they expected.

So, of course, no one believed him. Bucky could not possibly have traveled to some mystical, magical place and had tea with a handsome goat-boy. He had to have stolen the coat, and that from someone important. 

He was from Brooklyn, right? Magic didn’t happen in Brooklyn.

A few afternoons of being poked and prodded and teased about it, and Bucky half-thought that he, too, must have been making it up. Certainly it didn’t feel very real, in the summer season of Brooklyn New York, where it was hot as hades during the day.

It couldn’t have happened.

Except Bucky kept dreaming about it, and every time he was alone, he kept looking for secret doors.

It didn’t feel real, except in all the ways that it felt more real than everything else in his life.

The way the color was washed out of Brooklyn, the way he was never quite hungry anymore. The way he seemed more alert and yet more bored than he’d ever been.

The coat was nice, however, and Bucky kept it in his room where he could look at it whenever he wanted. There was no tag inside, and all of the stitching looked as if it had been done by hand, rather than on a machine, in a factory. It smelled good, too, like cinnamon and wine and fireplaces and magic. The buttons were gold and silver, and would have been worth quite a bit at a pawn shop, but Bucky couldn’t bear to part with the coat at all. Each button had a shield with a star in the middle on it.

Instead, he snipped one of the spare buttons off the inside hem of the coat and threaded it on a cord to wear around his neck. Somehow, it made him feel closer to Tony, to that memory of a thing that could not possibly have happened.

He was playing with the button, twisting the cord between his fingers, as he left work -- headed to meet up with Steve and the rest of them for dinner and drinks, when he felt the world shift under his feet. A burst of cold air and snow came out of nowhere.

He stared around wildly, searching. 

And there it was. The door.

Where there had been no door only moments ago. A crack open, light shining out onto the streets.

_Narnia._

Bucky wrenched the door open, letting in more snow and winter. Oh, oh, god, it was real, it had always been real.

“Are you comin’ or what, Barnes?” Clint demanded, waving at him from the front of the alley.

“Come here,” Bucky said. “Now.”

“What, you find a dead body or-- oh.” Clint was staring at the door.

“You see that?” 

“I see that.”

“Great. Go get my coat, get everyone, and get back here, fast as you can. I’ll hold the door open.”

***

It was colder, somehow. Even with his coat and the hat and gloves that Clint had also brought -- and Bucky would worry that Clint knew his apartment that well, except Clint was observant, and Bucky was a slob, so it was probably okay -- it seemed… bitter, somehow.

Like it was too cold to snow. The air hurt when he breathed it without tucking his nose into the collar of his coat.

“It’s not very nice here, is it,” Peggy observed, even though she was looking around avidly. Her coat was bright blue and she had a red hat and she stood out like some sort of color explosion against the snow and the dark forest.

“Some of it’s okay,” Bucky said, leading the way. “Tony was nice.”

“This is the goat boy,” Clint said, like someone might have forgotten. 

“Faun,” Bucky corrected, since that was probably important. Calling him a goat boy seemed like calling someone by a racial slur. Unkind at the least. 

“Sorry I didn’t believe you,” Steve said, and offered Bucky a hand to shake.

“I wouldn’t have believed me either,” Bucky said, taking Steve’s hand. Even when all he had was a button and memories, he hadn’t been certain. Maybe thing wasn’t real, if it wasn’t witnessed.

“This looks like Russia,” Nat said. “Feels like Siberia. Why would you want to come back here?”

_Tony._

“Who doesn’t want a little magic in their life?”

“I have Nat,” Clint said, batting his eyelashes ridiculously. They were thick with snowflakes. “What more do I need?”

“Sap,” Peggy accused him. “Well, then, where are we going?”

“I want to see Tony,” Bucky said, taking the lead. He’d only been there once, and when he was in Narnia before, he thought he’d never find his way home, but now that he was back, he knew the trees and the feel of the land, and there was the lamppost, and--

Tony’s house was practically burned down. The tree was half fallen over, and the ruins were filled with snow.

A sign was staking in the snow, just outside what remained of the door.

_The former occupant of these premises, the Faun, Tony Stark, has been arrested and tried for High Treason and Fraternizing with Humans, harboring spies, and providing comfort to the Enemy. Found guilty, his heart has been removed and on display by the Queen, her Imperial Majesty, Whitney Frost, rightful ruler of Narnia._

_Brock Rumlow, Chief of her Imperial Majesty’s Secret Police_

_Long Live the Queen!_

“Oh, my god,” Bucky gasped. His heart? On display? What the hell did that mean?

“This does not sound like it would be a good place for us to be,” Nat said, looking around nervously. “If humans are the enemy.”

“Frost’s not the real queen,” Bucky said. “She’s a usurper.”

“Well, I don’t much like bullies, I don’t care where they’re from,” Steve declared. “I think we should go try and rescue this _faun_.”

“This really isn’t our business,” Clint said. “We’d have to watch our backs, super close, and we’ve got no allies, no safe haven, no food.”

“It is my business,” Bucky said. “Harboring spies and fraternizing with Humans. That’s me. This happened because of me.”

“Buck, this isn’t your fault,” Steve declared.

“Yeah, but it’s my responsibility.”


	4. Chapter 4

Sometimes, Bucky thought, he’d never been anywhere else but Naria. Brooklyn and summer seemed a dim memory.

They’d found allies, of a sort. Talking animals, a brilliant red-banded falcon named Sam, and a giant green troll, Hulk. “He’s one of the good sorts,” Sam had reassured them. “Not all the trolls belong to her, although a great many of them do. Best ask a few questions first. Trolls don’t have the presence of mind to lie.”

Sam had led them to a small clearing, where they’d met living trees -- “We are Groot” -- and their caretakers, Rocket, Quill, Gamora, Mantis, and Drax. In that small, safe place, Sam had told them of the prophecy and the coming of the days of Summer that was predicted a hundred years ago.

“Prophecy sounds like an excuse to let people walk all over you,” Steve said. “You can’t fight back because of the prophecy.”

Peggy punched him in the shoulder, nearly knocking him down. “Don’t be mean, Steve,” she told him. “It sounds like the Queen is very dangerous.”

“More dangerous than you know,” Sam replied, “but less than she believes. Fury will be here soon and her crown will be broken, her minions cast down. When Fury comes, spring will follow.”

“One wonders what this Fury had to do that was so pressingly urgent that he left this kingdom alone for a thousand years,” Bucky said. “All this is good an’ well, but where’s Tony? What happened to him? Is he okay?”

“He’s a traitor,” Sam said, flatly. “To his kind, by spying for the ice queen, and to her, for betraying her in the end. He’s naught but a stone statue in her garden, his heart plucked out and delivered to her on a silver tray right before he was changed. If he’s not dead, he’s as good as.”

Bucky shuddered, hitched in a breath. “No, that’s-- this place is magic, can’t something be done?”

“Only Fury can reverse the Queen’s magic, and even if he does that, would there be enough to return a broken heart to his chest? Forget the faun. We have a war to win.”

“It’s not my war,” Bucky muttered, rebellious. What did he care for kings and queens, for winter and war. He cared about _Tony_.

“Whatever you are planning,” Natasha said to him, later, after they were clearing away the dinner dishes and packing up for travel in the morning, “I support you.” She leaned in and kissed his cheek. “Go. I have asked questions of Sam and of the tree-people. The Queen’s castle is there, right between those two mountains.”

“What can I do, against a witch Queen and no magic of my own?”

“You’ll find a way,” Natasha told him. “I have faith in you.”

* * *

And now, of course, you want to know what happened to Bucky? When Steve discovered him missing in the morning, no search was organized. It started snowing shortly after midnight and there were barely any tracks leading away from the camp, which meant he’d left somewhat before the snowfall. They wouldn’t, Sam insisted, be able to find him.

Best to hurry on and meet up with Fury and the Army of the Shield. That would be Bucky’s best chance.

That would be everyone’s best chance.

But Bucky -- he’d eaten his share of dinner, but he hadn’t enjoyed it, because, of course, he was thinking about Tony. Tony dead or dying. Turned to stone.

A traitor to his people.

Except that Bucky knew he wasn’t. He knew that Tony sold his soul to the devil (or in this case, a witch) not for personal gain, although no one could see around the wealth and status that the faun had, but so that other people could live.

They could live and hate Tony, but they’d be alive.

The first thing he’d realized after he slipped away was that it was snowing, and it would hide his tracks.

The second thing was that his shoes were not very well suited for this environment, and his feet were wet blocks of ice in moments. He was shivering, trying to keep himself small. The snow piled up on his hair, and after a while he was too tired to shake it away.

There was no road and he kept slipping into drifts and tripping over snow-covered logs until he was entirely soaking wet, cold and bruised all over. The silence, loneliness, and fear were oppressive, and he might have given up and turned back, trusted this Fury to save Tony, if Tony could even have been saved.

Except that he couldn’t help but think of that kiss, the one that warmed him all over like a spell, even when he was frightened and half angry.

Tony had kissed him and Tony had saved his life at the cost of his own, and Bucky owed the faun-- he needed to _do something_.

Finally, just as he was thinking he could not, in fact, take another step, the moon came out, and he could see the Witch’s castle. Cold and frozen and white and magnificent and horrible all at the same time.

He drew himself up and started the slow climb down the hill and toward the castle, and when he got there, do you know what he saw? 

All the creatures and peoples of Narnia who had stood against the Queen, like a huge chess match that had been lost and the pieces scattered. Statues, half buried in snow. Stone lions and stone giants, stone satyrs and frozen dryads, stone nymphs and tiny stone foxes, and even a stone lion. They all looked strange and lifelike and beautiful and sad all at the same time, and it was heartbreaking to walk through the courtyard, looking ever more desperately for a familiar face. 

And then, near the great throne at the far end of the courtyard, was a stone faun, face screwed up with defiance and fear, pain and sorrow.

“Tony--” And Bucky rushed to the statue, threw his arms around it, even though he knew he couldn’t possibly do anything. There was a hole in the middle of the faun’s bare chest.

Stane had ripped out his heart. That’s what Sam the Falcon had said, but Bucky hadn’t really believed it. Not until now.

Still holding onto the statue, as if the cold stone would give him comfort, Bucky started to cry.

*

Bucky didn’t notice when the snow turned to rain; he was cold and soaked and exhausted, huddled with his arms around his knees at the foot of the statue that had once been a lively and proper faun.

Not for a long time, as the snow was washed away. He couldn’t feel it for the tears on his face, or the numbness in his soul. But he did feel the change in the air, and he could smell the perfume of blooming flowers and eventually he looked up to see a lamb there, observing him with solemn eyes.

“This is a strange place to be crying, child,” the lamb said.

“I wasn’t really pickin’ a place for the scenery,” Bucky said, sarcastic and bitter. What was it to this creature anyway, if he was sad? 

“Well, perhaps you should,” the lamb said. “Because this is a place of miracles. The lion has come, and spring is returned to Narnia. And all manner of ills shall be restored. As you see, if you would look around.” 

Bucky did, and he watched with amazement as the garden of statues came to live around him, each one in turn. “But Tony-- Tony will die,” he said.

“You care of this faun, even if he was a traitor to his people?”

“Tony sold his soul to the White Queen,” Bucky said, “so that other people didn’t have to. So that other people might live. I don’t care what they say. Tony Stark was a hero.”

“Perhaps you are right,” the lamb said. “But he has done great ill, as well. And a sacrifice will have to be made, if he is to survive.” 

“What sort of sacrifice?”

“Someone he has wronged must forgive him, and give up some of their life, that he might live,” the lamb said.

“I will,” Bucky said. “Tony wronged me, he--”

“Yes, I understand,” the lamb said, and if an animal could smile indulgently, this one was doing so. “You will give some of your life for his. Place your left hand over his heart and ask him to come home.”

“Tony, come back to me,” Bucky said. “Come home, please--”

“As you are worthy of him, so shall he be worthy of you,” the lamb said.

Blue glow seeped out of the spaces between them until they were both glowing so brightly that Bucky couldn’t see, and all he could do was hold his hand there, until he couldn’t hold it any longer.

He thought he might be blind, but eventually the light drained away.

And when it did--

“Oh, by the lion, your arm, Bucky--”

There was a faintly glowing gem in Tony’s chest, pulsing like a heartbeat. And Bucky’s left arm… was severed. Sheared off as if by a giant blade, but it wasn’t bleeding, and it didn’t hurt. The lamb was gone. Because of course it was.

“I gave it up, for you. Some of my life, so you could live,” Bucky said, off balance and weak.

“I wouldn’t have asked you to do that,” Tony protested, and his handsome face twisted in despair. 

“That’s not what a sacrifice is,” Bucky said. “I’ll be all right. I still got one good arm to hold you with. We’ll-- we’ll figure it out.”

“So we shall,” Tony said, wiping his eyes. “We will.”

As for the rest, if I should tell you of the battles they won and the battles they lost; what became of the other humans in the lands of Narnia, and how they eventually overthrew the white queen, and joy and summer came over the lands-- well, that’s another story.

But for now, what I shall tell you is that Bucky and Tony were together for the very longest of long lives, always at each other’s side. And they argued, and they made up so often that eventually they decided to get married and do it more conveniently.

Tony became a great smith and a great worker of mechanical things, and on the two year anniversary of their marriage, he presented his husband with a mechanical arm.

As for the other humans, they eventually all married, and took kingdoms in the lands of Narnia, and lived there for a very, very long time.

**Author's Note:**

> [Inspired by this Art](https://trashcanakin.tumblr.com/post/185778652918/for-tsb-square-a3-free-space-somefaun-druid)


End file.
